Rooney Quint
'''Rooney Quint '''never thought she would leave Eocene. An orphan, her filthy feet had slapped the cobbles since she could walk, and she'd had her fingers in people's pockets before she could speak. In a town the size of Eocene, there was competition, and when you're competing to stay alive, that competition can prove violent. Rooney had learned that she could fight early on. When someone tries to take what's yours, what else is there to do but hit them? Everyone knew that. But when Rooney hit somebody, they tended not to hit back. And although Eocene was large, you would be surprised how quickly a single person can draw the wrong sort of attention. Especially if that person could earn some money. They told her she could make 20 percent of her winnings, and all she had to do was fight once a week. They would give her a place to sleep, inside, and a full meal every day. To a street rat of 22 years, this sounded like it was too good to be true. They told her the worst that could happen is she'd lose a few teeth or break her nose. That was fine with her. Who needed teeth anyhow? So she fought. And she won. She always won. She won against men twice her size. She won so often she was accused of taking mutagens. And if the 20 percent always felt a little light, she didn't have too much to complain about. And no one to complain to, anyway. She put it away, in the leather bag under her mattress. One day, she was going to grab that bag and disappear. To hell with these sweaty men and their bets and the blood under her feet and the smell of beer on her breath. And then he caught her outside at the water barrel. He smiled the way the rich men always did, so arrogant. She knew immediately he was there to bribe her. He did. She said no. He showed her her leather bag, with all of her money. He told her to throw the fight or she would never see a copper of it again. What could she do? He was holding her entire life in his palm. It was dicy either way. If she threw it, he could decide to keep it anyway, and her betters would cut her throat the first chance they caught. If she didn't throw it, he would walk away with her only chance of ever getting away from this place. She threw it. She found the bag by the water barrel. The roar in the basement was overbearing. She knew that before the night was out, she would be dead. As of this moment, she had no home. She had to get the hell out of Eocene, and quickly, before her boss bribed the guards to keep her in. She stopped a man on the street and offered him an obscene amount of money for his long coat and bowler, and made a b-line for the gate. She would go to Lucien, to the University. She would find adventurers in need of muscle. If there was one thing she could do, it was fight. If she was going to fight, she would fight for a reason. The turned the collar on her long coat up against the wind and took her first free step outside of Eocene.